Behind Blue Eyes
by The Lady Nightingale
Summary: Loki, in prison, thinking too much. Inspired by the song of the same name.
1. Monster

_Author's note: I heard the Limp Bizkit version of 'Behind Blue Eyes' the other day on the radio. I'd forgotten how much of a Loki song it was, and this appeared in my head. I know other people have done it, and probably better. But I haven't managed to see TDW yet, so I had to do something while I waited for the post to bring my copy..._  
_If you don't like this, mea culpa. If you do, thanks also are due to A Lonely Angel 6 who convinced me to post it._

No one knows what it's like  
To be the bad man  
To be the sad man  
Behind blue eyes.

No one knows what it's like  
To be hated  
To be fated  
To telling only lies.

Loki had tried sitting with his back against the barrier, a pointless show of disdain - who was watching? No one would see except his fellow prisoners and their opinions mattered little. When the magic began to numb and pain him beyond where he was in contact with it, therefore, he gave up and sat against the wall. He had furniture, books, his magic - with limits. His own little kingdom. Did they expect him to be grateful? To show sorrow, remorse? Better to sit on the floor, lean against the wall and wait for whatever was to come.

His wounds pained him, but he would never stoop to asking for assistance, for relief. Even if he had found it possible to believe it would come. At least he didn't have to share his cell. He had maintained the glamour on Midgard once it was clear he would loose, and kept it up now in case, only in case. For pride. For pride he would bear what he didn't deserve and keep up the pretence. No one had examined or even offered to examine him after the mindless green beast had beaten him into the ground - those injuries were barely noticeable now, but these were designed to last a good while longer - and with no cell mates no one need ever know about what The Other had done to his 'ally'.

Not that any of the Aesir would care. Green eyes? Blue eyes? They probably couldn't even remember which he normally had. When was the last time any of them looked at him anyway? He knew all they cared about were red eyes. His red eyes.  
Monster.

He had told the little spider he wasn't; but, well, what did one Midgardian matter really? Or one more lie? Besides, he had hoped to be a good king, as much as he could behind the walls that bound him within his own mind. Better than Thor would have been. The madness _would_ have ended with his rule because the Chitauri would have gone on to the greater worlds their true Master wanted and left Loki alone to manage Midgard; a tributary king, but king in his own right. He hadn't wanted the mortals to be afraid of his other face.

Asgardians, though, were another matter. They knew him and loathed him for what he was. Why didn't he just abandon his Aesir form then? Be the thing they hated and feared and demanded of him?

In his heart, Loki knew he would never do that. Partly, because he was so well trained, so eager to please his _parents _that he had learned to hate himself. Somewhere however, behind the mind control and the torture, the insanity of the abyss and the terror of Ragnarok, Loki was still an Odinson. He loved his mother and his brother; was desperate for his father to notice, to care - even if he no longer allowed himself to dream of approval.  
No, Loki.  
Monster.

He wondered if Thor would come. Or Frigga. Yes, she would come, surely. Odin? If he wanted to speak to - not with, never _with_ \- his wayward not-son, he would have Loki hauled up in chains to the throne room to be lectured, to be viewed by the court. 'See this? This sought to destroy us all. Choose with whom you will be numbered.' At least Loki would know his not-father remembered he existed, even if he had to endure the stares and whispers. But his mother... not his mother. Never again his mother. Frigga. Frigga would come to him.

But he mustn't hope for that. He was dangerous, and being near him was dangerous. He hadn't got the Tesseract and he was hardly hiding in a crevice on a barren moon. Granted, Asgard was safer than most of the Nine, but Loki held no illusions about his chances. He knew pain. Even pain as The Other enjoyed inflicting it. There was no chance for him, or anyone who was close to him. Especially here, where he could not run, could not get away from anyone who was too close when _T__hey _came for him.

If Odin and Thor wouldn't kill the monster, there was Someone who would make a death-sentence feel like mercy.

If the descendants of Bor could not be made to see that it was the proper business of Kings and Princes to kill Monsters, perhaps they could be made to withhold what they saw as mercy. She would come. He knew she would come. He wanted her to come, but he mustn't let it happen.

Drive her away. Hurt her. Lie. God of Lies. Words like knives, like daggers. Wound her. Drive her away.  
Keep her safe.

Monster?

But my dreams they aren't as empty  
As my conscience seems to be.  
I have hours only lonely  
My love is vengeance, it's never free.


	2. The Stairs to the Left

No one knows what it's like

To feel these feelings

Like I do, and I blame you.

No one bites back as hard

On their anger:

None of my pain and woe

Can show through.

_"__A king? A true king admits his faults. What of the lives you took on Earth?"_

_"__A mere handful compared to the number that Odin has taken himself."_

_"__Your father…"_

_"__HE'S NOT MY FATHER!"_

_"__Then am I not your mother?" He took a moment, as she had done before._

_"__You're not." _

_Her smile was sad. "Always so perceptive - about everyone but yourself."_

Loki hadn't wanted it to be like that. He had played it over and over in his mind, yet he couldn't quite decide how he wanted it to have been. His mind was split - he wanted so badly to have apologised, to have fallen into her arms and sworn that yes, yes she was his mother, the only mother he would ever need, ever want. Not that he could have, of course. Simply touching her hand was enough to destroy the image and break the link. She was only an illusion. Maybe that would keep her safe when Thanos' minions came for him. Maybe. He couldn't take that chance, and so the other part of him wished he had been more harsh, more hurtful. That he had been able to follow through with his intention to turn the sharp edge of his tongue against her. He had never lied to her before, and he hoped he never would again, but he had to make sure she stayed away, stayed safe.

Her sad, almost disappointed smile as she disappeared brought back aching memories from childhood. When Thor had let his temper get the better of him. When Loki had taken complicated revenge for the smallest, unintended slight. When the brothers had fought - and how frequent had that been? She was wrong about one thing, though. He had learned - finally, painfully - to perceive himself. He knew what he was.

Monster.

He wondered what Odin thought of his wife's visits to their wayward son. He had forbidden her to see him - and Loki was grateful for that, he assured himself. Frigga's safety was paramount. Loki was certain too, however, that Odin knew of his queen's disobedience. Why would he allow it? Surely, surely he couldn't… He mustn't mean to allow... No, he must think to hurt, to punish Loki somehow through her.

Once, Loki had believed Odin to be his father, and for a while if not his father then at least to care - somewhere, a little. He had always known he was unlike Odin, but that didn't mean anything. Lady Sif was hardly the image of her mother. Loki had striven to be his brother's equal, to make Odin forget the things Loki was really good at and see the things he felt he should have been. He had believed Odin favoured Thor because he understood him. It was only, finally, on the edge of the Abyss that Loki himself understood. It was not simply because Thor was like their father, truly of his blood, but that Loki was an unwanted, stolen heirloom of another Realm. A Realm of monsters.

Another monster. Another 'ally' of The Other? Loki was not ready. He would never be ready, and there was really nothing he could say that would change anything anyway. Better to brazen it out, to accept with a smile whatever fate would bestow upon him. After all, no one had ever listened to his pleas, his reasons, his excuses before. He had learned that long ago - the truth of what happened didn't matter, the Aesir would always blame Loki. He had wondered why at the time, but now he knew. Why should anyone listen to the monster?

It waited over-long and turned away. Not his doom come for him, then. Just an escaped prisoner, though a powerful one.

What of Thor? The witless oaf would come with the klaxons and the Einhejar; brandishing Mjolnir, his cape billowing. He would choose to face the biggest escapee, naturally, once he was certain Loki was not behind the threat. Judging by the ease with which it had destroyed the indestructible barricades, the new monster might be a better match for his brother than the old one.

He couldn't let that happen, either. He had been protecting Thor for so long, defending him in his own ways from the results of his own foolishness. Smoke in Nornheim (ridiculed), calming words in Jotunheim (ignored), a dagger-stroke in Midgard (misunderstood - Thor had to stay away from Loki, just in case the Chitauri won). It was laughable, really: The Monster who believed he was brother to the Prince.

Well, if all the new monster wanted to do was escape, keeping it away from Thor should be easy. The golden Prince was hardly known for subtlety of mind - he would not think of and certainly would not guard the lesser stairway himself. In his brother's place Loki would have had to guard it himself for he had learned you cannot explain the circuitous to those who think in straight lines. Should his fears have proved unfounded he would have been named 'coward'. No thanks would he have received had the worst come about.

There would be Einhejar somewhere above to deal with the monster. All the Einhejar in the Palace could sacrifice themselves nobly to return it to its cell for all Loki cared, as long as Thor did not.

_"__You might want to take the stairs to the left."_

But my dreams they aren't as empty

As my conscience seems to be.

I have hours only lonely

My love is vengeance, it's never free.

**OK, so I'm supposed to be writing more of 'The Tomboy Never Gets the Guy...'. It didn't want to be written and this did. Please go have a word with the muses if that bothers you - it wasn't me.**


End file.
